My True Love Gave to Me
by Arawna
Summary: This group of random oneshots is in response to TheOriginalHufflepuff's Twelve Fics of Christmas Challenge Thingy
1. Dance

Title: Dance

Author: Arawna

Disclaimer: Anything pertaining to Harry Potter and Co. does not belong to me, rather to JKR and anyone else who has stuck their hand into this cauldron.

Characters: Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter

Summary-A/N: This series - well, I don't know if you'd call it a 'series' per se, more like group of random one-shots that may or may not have references to each other, but are otherwise not related - is in response to TheOriginalHufflepuff's Twelve Fics of Christmas challenge.

* * *

Dance: 

Gray eyes scanned the dance floor, watching everyone in their sickly-sweet couples, sneering as those same couples held each other close to sway together with the slow beat.

He hated the Yule Ball, and all the merry feelings that wafted from others because of it. It had nothing to do with the fact that no such merry feelings were directed at him. Nope. Not at all.

Okay, maybe just a _little_, but he wasn't about to admit that to anyone. Especially that green-eyed boy right across the room from him, staring at the couples with the same disdain in his own eyes. However, making an oath not to admit anything to the Gryffindor didn't mean that he couldn't look at the boy.

After finishing his third glass of eggnog - spiked, of course, as only the Slytherins would do - when he finally noticed his stare being returned. He quickly glanced away, only to revert his eyes back to meet his opponent's.

Draco hadn't known exactly how long Harry had been staring at him, but there was a look in those green orbs that didn't tell of hate or disdain, or wanting to pound the Slytherin's head into the nearest wall. Instead, it held something that Draco couldn't quite make out; something between hunger and … rage? The hunger he could understand, but why mix it with rage? What did the Gryffindor have to be so upset at the blonde for?

Oh, stupid question.

Still pandering this question when he lost sight of the other boy. He glanced over at the table piled with finger food of all sorts, thinking that he had probably went to refill his spiked eggnog or to grab a Christmas treat. The boy made no appearance at the table. Draco shrugged. Perhaps he has gone to use the loo - it happens - and he would wait for him to return.

However, the blonde waited for many minutes without the other boy reappearing in the great doorway that was the entrance to the Hall.

"Whatcha lookin' at, Malfoy?"

If not for his extensive training in Malfoy etiquette, Draco would have jumped ten feet into the air at the sound of that deep voice sounding by his ear.

"Nothing, Potter," he sneered back, not even turning to look at the other boy. He took a sip of his eggnog. "What do you want?"

Draco felt Harry's fingers come up to play with the fine hairs at the nape of his neck.

"Nothing, Malfoy," Harry mimicked, without the sneer. "Just wondering if you would like to dance."

All the etiquette training in the world couldn't prevent Draco from showing a reaction. His eggnog didn't survive.

"What!?" exclaimed the blonde, turning to face the Gryffindor.

"I asked," the other boy said slowly, as if speaking to a child, "if you would like to dance. With me."

Draco sighed heavily. "I heard you the first time, Potter; that was merely a reaction. I'm sure Granger would agree with me on this."

"If 'Mione heard me asking you to dance, she wouldn't have time to agree with your point. She'd be too busy sending me to St. Mungo's, then quickly try to find a counter-curse for whatever curse had been placed on me," Harry explained.

"And that's not the case?" the blonde inquired. Harry shook his head. "Then what is to blame?"

"Hormones." The Gryffindor shrugged.

"So hormones are the reason you're asking me to dance?" Draco now stood in front of the other boy with his arms crossed over his chest.

Harry shook his head again, taking a step toward Draco. "No, hormones are to blame as to why I'm fascinated with you." He brushed a lock of platinum blonde hair from over the Slytherin's left eye. Draco shuddered. "It's that Gryffindor courage that can be blamed for why I'm asking you to dance."


	2. Mirror

Title: Mirror

Author: Arawna

Disclaimer: Anything pertaining to Harry Potter and Co. does not belong to me, rather to JKR and anyone else who has stuck their hand into this cauldron.

Characters: Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy

Summary-A/N: This series - well, I don't know if you'd call it a 'series' per se, more like group of random one-shots that may or may not have references to each other, but are otherwise not related - is in response to TheOriginalHufflepuff's Twelve Fics of Christmas challenge.

* * *

Mirror:

"'Cissa," Lucius cooed at his wife, looking at her reflection rather than at her. It was easier to see her stunning features that way. "You look more beautiful than the day I married you. And no, that is not a wrinkle. Now stop worrying, or you'll really give yourself wrinkles."

"But, Lucy. Draco said he'd bring his lover home for the holidays," Narcissa replied, turning from the mirror to gaze up into her husband's blue-gray eyes. "I want to make sure I make an excellent first impression, and that means absolutely, positively _no wrinkles_. I just have to check to make sure."

"Don't call her a 'lover'," the blonde man responded, wrinkling his nose as though the word taste bad. "She's his girlfriend, and shouldn't be called his lover until she has preformed the act that makes her such."

Narcissa shook her head at Lucius. "Dear, what ever makes you think Draco's 'lover' is female?"

Lucius seemed to bristle at this comment. "It _has _to be female! If not, then how can the Malfoy line continue? We are one of the longest lines in the Wizarding community!"

"We'll just have to wait and see," his loving wife offered, returning her gaze toward the mirror.

-------------

"Lucy," Narcissa called from her position by her vanity, looking into the mirror to make sure the earring was going in properly. "Lucius. I think they'll be here soon. Knowing Draco, he'll arrive in about fifteen minutes so that he can rest before dinner."

Lucius grumbled as he straightened the collar of his robes, so that it stood briskly against his pale neck. He and Narcissa had made a bet as to the gender of Draco's 'lover', himself taking the female bet, and Narcissa taking the male. The wager was ten galleons. He wasn't quite sure how exactly the win/lose situation would work out, seeing as how the galleons would be coming from the same vault at Gringotts.

A bell sounded around the Manor, alerting the couple that their son and his guest had arrived, and were probably shedding their cloaks and handing them to the nearest house elf.

"Oh, Lucy, they're here." Narcissa sounded overjoyed. Lucius rolled her eyes. He loved his wife, but she had this tendency to announce the obvious. "Hurry up, dear. I'm going to go down and greet them."

Lucius heard the door to their rooms open and close as his wife exited the suite.

With one last check to make sure that his hair was properly gelled and pulled back into a black silk ribbon, he swept out of the rooms to follow his wife. As he came to the landing at the top of the staircase, he heard his wife greeting the guest.

"Oh, it's such a pleasure to meet you at last," he heard Narcissa say in that tone that she normally only used with family or close friends. "Lucius will be happy to meet you as well."

The bottom stair has always made this small noise when pressure was applied, but Lucius was never allowed to fix it; Narcissa thought it added a certain 'charm' to the Manor. It was this small noise that told his wife that he was within earshot, even if she couldn't see him because he was just around a corner.

"Lucy," she called. He could hear his son's companion snicker. "I do believe you owe me ten galleons."

Lucius neared the corner. "Oh really? And who might it be? That Zabini boy? Or possible a pureblood Ravenclaw?"

Narcissa giggled. "No."

"Do I know him?"

"Yes, I think so," replied his wife. He could tell that she was smirking at him just by the tone. "You do know Harry Potter, right?"

The three standing in the entryway heard a dull _thud_. Narcissa glanced over her shoulder and smirked, for, from her vantage point, she could see Lucius' feet in the mirror. And from the position of said feet, she'd say he'd just fainted.


	3. Surprise

Title: Surprise

Author: Arawna

Disclaimer: Anything pertaining to Harry Potter and Co. does not belong to me, rather to JKR and anyone else who has stuck their hand into this cauldron.

Characters: Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley

Summary-A/N: This series - well, I don't know if you'd call it a 'series' per se, more like group of random one-shots that may or may not have references to each other, but are otherwise not related - is in response to TheOriginalHufflepuff's Twelve Fics of Christmas challenge.

* * *

Surprise: 

"What do you mean, 'it's a surprise'?" Hermione asked, turning her head every-which-way to attempt to free her eyes from her boyfriend's hands.

"Like I said, it's a surprise," Ron replied, urging the bushy haired young woman forward with an elbow on her shoulder. "Now, just a little more, then you can see. Promise."

"Ooohhh," his girlfriend whined. "But I wanna know what it is."

"'Mione, I said just a moment," he scolded halfheartedly. "Step up. And there."

Ron lowered his hands from Hermione's eyes.

"Ron," Hermione breathed. "It's beautiful."

Laid out before her, and him for that matter, in a small gazebo, was a dinner set for two, complete with candles, elegantly folded cloth napkins, expensive looking silver-wear, and a bottle of champagne chilling in a bucket of ice just off to the side. The entire gazebo was charmed to keep warm against the frozen night of December.

"I love it," the bushy-haired Gryffindor squealed, throwing her arms around Ron's high shoulders. "I absolutely love this surprise!"

The red-head hugged her back. "This isn't my surprise; it's merely a setting."

Hermione looked into Ron's eyes as she lowered herself from her tiptoes. "What do you mean? If this isn't the surprise, then what is?"

"It wouldn't be a surprise if I told you, now would it?" Ron grinned, leaning in to steal a quick kiss before leading her to the table.

Sighing in defeat, Hermione allowed herself to be lead to the table, and sat when Ron pulled the chair out for her.

Dinner was happy conversations, planning excursions, flirting grins; not once was the war mentioned. The couple was smiling softly at each other as an unseen house-elf - much to the annoyance of Hermione - magicked the dishes with remnants of roast chicken, mashed potatoes, and vegetables from the table, making room for the dessert dish and new plates and silver-wear.

"Oh, Ron, I love trifle," Hermione smiled at him.

"I know," Ron grinned back.

Hermione took a spoonful into her mouth, savoring the contrasting tastes of the tart lemon and the sweet raspberries. When the last of the trifle was melting away in her mouth, she noticed an odd weight on her tongue.

She glanced questioningly at Ron as she spat it out into her cupped hand; he never broke eye contact, and that same silly grin was stretched across his face. She looked from his elated face to see what had landed itself in the palm of her hand.

Hermione's eyes widened as she realized that it was a small gold ring that she had found in her trifle and her eyes shifted immediately back up to Ron's, but he wasn't in the seat across from her. Instead, he was situated right next to the table, kneeling before her on his left knee, one hand already moving to snag the ring from Hermione's palm. He took in a deep breath.

"Hermione Jean Granger," Ron started, slipping the ring onto the fourth finger of her left hand. "Will you marry me?"

Her eyes oscillated between the blue gemmed ring and her boyfriend's hopeful eyes before she broke out into an ecstatic grin.

"Yes. Yes. Yes! And a thousand times. YES!" She threw herself at the boy. "Ronald Bilius Weasley! I will marry you!"

Hermione showed her pleasure with her new fiancée by kissing every inch of his face. When she finally pulled away, smiling at him, Ron pulled her back into a hug.

"Happy Christmas, 'Mione," he said softly into her hair.

"Happy Christmas, Ron," she replied into his chest.


	4. Firewhiskey

Title: Firewhiskey

Author: Arawna

Disclaimer: Anything pertaining to Harry Potter and Co. does not belong to me, rather to JKR and anyone else who has stuck their hand into this cauldron.

Characters: Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, Ginny Weasley, Blaise Zabini, Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnigan, Neville Longbottom, Pansy Parkinson

Summary-A/N: This series - well, I don't know if you'd call it a 'series' per se, more like group of random one-shots that may or may not have references to each other, but are otherwise not related - is in response to TheOriginalHufflepuff's Twelve Fics of Christmas challenge.

* * *

Firewhiskey:

"No fucking way, Malfoy," Ron accused, staring at the blonde from across the circle of other Gryffindors and Slytherins in the Room of Requirement. "I am not about to play some drinking game with you on the last night before holiday break."

"Fine, you don't have to play," Draco conceded with a shrug. "Everyone else will, though, right?"

Starting from Ron's right, Hermione nodded, then Ginny, followed by Blaise, then Pansy, Draco smirked at the redhead as heads followed the nodding around the circle, which continued from Draco's right with Harry, then Neville, if uncertain, and then Seamus and Dean nodded together, who were seated just at Ron's left. The whole circle, other than Ron, had nodded in agreement with the blonde Slytherin.

"See," Draco smirked from his armchair that the Room had provided, "even without you, I still have enough people to make for an interesting game. Hell, even you're baby sister is participating. And your girlfriend for that matter."

"I don't have girlfriend," Ron protested. Everyone noticed as Hermione bristled visibly and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Keep saying that, big brother, and you never will," Ginny informed him from her own chair.

"Whatever," Ron huffed. "Fine, I'll play."

With a flick of his wrist, Draco summoned to the table in the middle of the ring of chairs a bottle of firewhiskey and ten shot glasses, each tinted a respective red or green; not only to match house loyalty, but to also bring a bit of Christmas spirit to this, their last day in each other's company until the new year. Of course, red dominated the playing field. Draco rose from his chair and began to pour the shots.

"Erm…What exactly are we playing?" asked Neville with an uncertain waver to his voice.

Draco paused in his pouring to look at the Gryffindor. "It's called 'I Never'." He resumed his pouring. "Basically, it goes around the circle, and everyone forms a statement that begins with 'I never'. Now, anyone who's done whatever has been proclaimed has to drink. For instance, I may say 'I never…kissed a boy.' Now we all know that's not true, so I'd have to drink, obviously. But anyone else who's kissed a boy also has to drink. Get it?"

Neville's head bobbed as if he, in fact, did get it, but the look on his face said that he didn't.

"Alright," said Draco, gesturing for each player to take his or her glass. "Who wants to start?"

Instantly, Hermione's hand shot in the air, as per usual. With a slight nod from Draco, Hermione claimed that she, "Never dated a Slytherin."

Harry, Draco, Pansy, Blaise, and Ginny at took their shot. When the glasses were refilled, the game continued around the circle to Hermione's right.

"I never…" Ginny had to think about it. She smirked as she finished, "kissed a sniveling Ravenclaw."

Shaking his head, Harry took his shot.

"Potter? Who?" Pansy inquired.

"That whore, Chang," Draco answered for him, sneering as the name left his lips.

"Draco, I told you not to tell anybody," Harry chided the blonde before glaring at his redheaded friend across the circle. "And I though I told _you_ not to tell anyone, Ron."

"Whatever," Draco interjected. "Moving on."

With a huff, Harry slumped back in his chair.

"I never…attempted to fight the Dark Lord single-handed," Blaise stated when Harry's glace was refilled.

Again, Harry downed his shot.

"That's news to me," Draco smirked sarcastically.

Pansy put her index finger to her bottom lip, as if to think of a statement. "I never…got off watching Draco get himself off."

She smirked as Harry blushed slightly as he downed yet another shot - his fourth to be exact.

"What is it? Pick on Harry Day?" Draco asked, looking around the circle of their friends. "And if so, why wasn't I told?" The group laughed as Harry nudged Draco in the ribs with his elbow. "Okay, my turn…I never thought about two members of the opposite sex 'getting it on'." He even used finger quotes.

All members of the circle, except for Harry, Draco, Dean, and Seamus, threw back their shots.

"Okay," Harry grinned. "I never thought about two members of the _same_ sex 'getting it on'." He stole Draco's finger quotes.

Ron was the only one to look horrified as everyone else gulped down his or her shots. His eyes oscillated between Hermione sitting next to him and Ginny sitting next to her.

"Huh?" He asked. "Y-you two th-thought about two girls g-going at it?"

"Well," Hermione drawled, leaning closer to Ginny. "It wasn't as much a thought as it was an action."

Ron seemed to be the only one who didn't catch on.

"Granger, you sly minx," Blaise praised. "You and my poor little Ginny?"

Hermione shrugged. "It was one experiment; last year; nothing happened beyond that. I promise I won't try to steal you're little Ginny away from you."

"Well, if the thought does cross your mind, you have my permission, _if _I can tag along."

Ginny punched her boyfriend in the arm as she declared that the game should continue.

"My turn, my turn, my turn," Seamus chanted, bouncing slightly in his chair. "Okay…let me see here. I never…had sex dreams about Snape."

Again, everyone _but_ Ron took his or her shot.

"Hermione!?" he screeched, a little higher than what an average boy's voice _should_go.

"What?" Hermione shrugged. "He's a sexy bastard, all dark and mysterious like."

The rest of the group - excluding Ron - nodded in agreement.

"Hell, I prefer women over men, but I have to admit, Snape can get my blood going," Blaise admitted with a sheepish grin.

Dean was next. "Well, I never wanted to be a Jedi when I grew up."

Dean, Harry, and - surprisingly - Hermione downed their shots as the rest cast questioning looks around the circle.

"Muggle thing," the three chimed together.

The game went on and on, with 'I never' statements becoming more and more wild, until, at last, the bottle poured the last of its contents so everyone had one more shot left. It was Harry's turn.

"I never had a better Christmas," he claimed with a grin.

Everyone glanced at each other before setting their shot glasses down on the table.


	5. Heart

Title: Heart

Author: Arawna

Disclaimer: Anything pertaining to Harry Potter and Co. does not belong to me, rather to JKR and anyone else who has stuck their hand into this cauldron.

Characters: Severus Snape, Remus Lupin

Summary-A/N: This series - well, I don't know if you'd call it a 'series' per se, more like group of random one-shots that may or may not have references to each other, but are otherwise not related - is in response to TheOriginalHufflepuff's Twelve Fics of Christmas challenge.

* * *

Heart:

He smoothed back the black hair that the students often thought to be greasy, but was really just a bit _too_ much hair gel. He'd learned about hair products from the senior Malfoy, but he couldn't manage to make his locks look the same as those silky, blonde strands the other had taken such pride in. Running his hand through his hair one last time, he walked through the broken gate, following the footprints in the snow, leading toward the Shrieking Shack.

The door hung crooked on its hinges, and many would think that it would cause a draft to flow through the creaking house, but the entire construction was warmed with a charm to a comfortable heat, even in the dead of winter. Severus shivered as he removed his heavy winter cloak and hung it on one arm of a standing cloak rack by the door. He could had sworn it had been warmer when he had followed the Holy Trinity past the Whomping Willow all those years ago, when it was Remus and Black that had been the main occupants at the time, but that was so long ago, his memory could be playing tricks on him. He no longer cared if something had happened between the two men while they stayed in the Shack, plotting on how exactly to capture a murderer. No. Black was gone and Remus was his, that's all he cared about anymore.

Smells wafting from the general direction of the small kitchen brought him back from his reveries. He followed them until he was presented with a wonderful view of a man two months his junior stirring here, mixing there, adding a pinch of something every so often. As he stood there watching, the thought that cooking was much like potions ran through his head, as it did whenever he had a chance to see Remus hard at work preparing a meal. Hoping to remain there, watching this man, Severus leaned up against the doorway, inadvertently causing it to creak like the rest of the house. Remus turned toward the noise, smiling sweetly when he saw Severus. Setting down the dishtowel that he had been holding, he took a few steps until he was almost in Severus' arms.

"And how are you tonight?" Remus cooed, wrapping his arms around the other man. He was given a sigh and a roll of black eyes. "That bad? Are the students getting a bit rowdy before the break starts?"

Severus nearly snorted. "With me? No. You almost insult me. They know they could never do such a thing in my class without some sort of reprimanding."

Remus narrowed his own eyes. "I thought I told you to be nicer to the students. You may scare them."

"Too late," Severus replied with a shrug. He suddenly remembered what was in tonight was about. Lifting a bag in one hand, he offered, "I brought something for you."

Remus pulled himself from the other man, staring down at the bag. "What is it?"

"You'll have to open it to find out," came his reply.

Without a second thought, Remus snatched the bag from Severus' fingers and pulled the bag open. He looked inside once, looked up at Severus, and then pulled the contents from the bad. The rattle of chains echoed through the small kitchen.

"Aw, how sweet, you got me new chains," Remus cooed, giving Severus a quick peck on the cheek.

"Well, since you broke the other ones, I figured you'd need a new set."

"Thank you," the werewolf smiled, setting the chains on a space of counter that wasn't being used for placing a food dish. "You know, if someone didn't know the _whole_ story, they may think I'm some kind of old pervert with a bondage fetish."

"You mean you're not?" Severus asked, smirking.

"No, I am not," Remus replied, acting almost as if he were wounded by the mere accusation.

"Could've fooled me."

Remus shot him a halfhearted glare. "Say what you will, I don't see you complaining."

Severus' smirk changed to a grin. "I'm not."

"Okay, now that that's settled," the slightly younger man said as he reached to turn the burner off that the sauce had been sitting on. "Let's eat."

As the couple set about placing everything on the table, the barely said a word, but as soon as the last dish was set gingerly in between two other dishes, Severus caught Remus' hand and pulled him close.

"You know," he murmured into smooth, graying locks. "I love you."

He placed a kiss on the crown of Remus' head before letting him free. Each took their seat at the table.

"I'm amazed," Remus commented as he began to scoop food onto his plate from the dishes laid out in front of him. When Severus quirked a dark eyebrow at him, he finished. "Not three years ago, you seemed a heartless git who showed no emotion. But now…now you seem caring, and loving, and…and almost human."

"Yes," Severus agreed, the corners of his mouth turning up slightly. "That was quite a feat on my part. It only took me all those years for you to finally realize I had a heart."

"Yes, me and the rest of the world."


	6. Patronus

Title: Patronus

Author: Arawna

Disclaimer: Anything pertaining to Harry Potter and Co. does not belong to me, rather to JKR and anyone else who has stuck their hand into this cauldron.

Characters: Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy

Summary-A/N: This series - well, I don't know if you'd call it a 'series' per se, more like group of random one-shots that may or may not have references to each other, but are otherwise not related - is in response to TheOriginalHufflepuff's Twelve Fics of Christmas challenge.

* * *

Patronus:

"Harry James Potter!" Draco bellowed, his voice echoing through the room. "This. Is. NOT. FUNNY!"

"I beg to differ," Harry gasped from his position on the floor, where he had fallen in a heap, laughing hysterically.

"You can beg all you want," Draco sneered, balling a fist and planting it firmly on one hip. The other hand remained at his side, clutching his wand. "But there will be on differing in this matter. It's not funny!"

Tears poured down Harry's face as he rolled over and over again on the stone.

"Harry! Stop this instant!" ordered the ex-Slytherin. "Help me change the blasted thing!"

Wiping one cheek free of tears, Harry explained, "You can't change the animal of your patronus. Just like you can't change the animal that you become while in your animagus form."

"Don't remind me," Draco pouted. "I'm never changing into an animagus. Ever."

He then mumbled 'fucking ferret' under his breath. Harry heard him.

"Well, at least you're consistent." Harry barely had the words out before a fit of laughter swept over him again.

"But why couldn't it had been something masculine? Like a dragon, or a snake, or a lion?" Draco asked, making his hands into claws at the last word before groaning. Harry snickered. "Fuck, I've been with you for too long if I'm even considering lions."

"Oh shush," Harry said, pulling himself from the floor. "Anyway, little Cissy will love your patronus."

Draco groaned again. "Do I have to show her?"

Harry frowned. "You promised her that for Christmas, you'd show her your patronus. She'd be awfully upset if her father couldn't keep his promise."

"But that's still three days away," Draco said hopefully. "Can't we change it before then?"

The ex-Gryffindor sighed. "I already told you, you can't change it. Thought you would know that."

"Fine," Draco grumbled. "Wait! What if I say the incantation, and you actually cast the spell? What about that? There's a masculine animal, and she'll be happy with it, right?"

"But she would probably like a cuddly ferret over a huge stag any day," Harry stated with a grin. "Anyway, Jamie would probably tell her that it was mine. He's seen mine before, remember?"

Draco groaned again.

-------------

"Nice patronus, Dad," Jamie smirked, his gray eyes glinting with mischief as they always did.

"I thought so, too," Harry commented, ruffling Jamie's black hair. He slung an arm around Draco's waist. He whispered into that blonde hair, "I think she likes it."

"Unfortunately," Draco grinned as Jamie wandered over to sit next to his little sister as she tried to snatch the small, silver ferret from the air. Her green eyes looked in awe at the little creature above her.

"I wonder what her patronus will be," Harry pandered idly. "Will it be something strong like mine, or something delicate like yours?"

His comment earned him an attempted swat, but due to the positioning, it didn't have the effect that Draco desired.

"I think Jamie will have the strong one," Draco answered, pulling out of Harry's embrace to walk over to their children. "And Cissy will have the delicate one."

Harry followed him, scooping the small blonde girl from the floor, allowing her better access to the patronus. Little Cissy giggled and swatted at the silver ghost of a ferret with a chubby hand, but the darned thing remained just out of her reach.

Beyond their warm and cozy den, snow covered the ground, causing the roaming carolers to leave footprints marking their passage from house to house, sharing in their Muggle holiday traditions while the wizards next door began a holiday tradition of their own.


	7. Victory

Title: Victory

Author: Arawna

Disclaimer: Anything pertaining to Harry Potter and Co. does not belong to me, rather to JKR and anyone else who has stuck their hand into this cauldron.

Characters: Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Ronald Weasley

Summary-A/N: This series - well, I don't know if you'd call it a 'series' per se, more like group of random one-shots that may or may not have references to each other, but are otherwise not related - is in response to TheOriginalHufflepuff's Twelve Fics of Christmas challenge.

* * *

Victory:

"And you think it's really a good idea?" Hermione asked, handing Harry a wet dish so he could dry it and set it in the cupboard.

"What? Them?" Harry's eyes flickered to the doorway where no noise at all seemed to permeate from. "I think it's fine. I mean, if they haven't tried to kill each other yet, I doubt they'll try now." He paused as he placed a plate on a shelf. "Well, unless Draco tries to cheat, then Ron may hex him, but I'm not worried about that." He took a plate from Hermione's hand. "Much."

Dishwashing continues until Hermione inquires, "So, he likes the chess set? We were wondering if he'd even _accept_ anything that cheap."

Harry scoffed as if offended. "I _have_ changed him from the git in school to a semi-respectable member of Muggle society."

Hermione shrugged just as a triumphant whoop rang through the rooms. She turned toward the doorway, hands still on the plate in her hands, but ready to draw her wand if needed. Harry didn't even flinch.

"What-?" she asked, gesturing toward the source of the noise.

"Draco just checkmated Ron," he answered, still drying the dish in his hands. "Took him long enough, too. I guess that chess set will get many uses."

Meanwhile, in the front room, Draco gave Ron's hand a strong shake.

"Two out of three?" he challenged with a smirk.

"You're on," Ron accepted with a grin.

They each set about placing their pieces back on their squares, ready for another battle to see who would win the war.


	8. Photograph

Title: Photograph

Author: Arawna

Disclaimer: Anything pertaining to Harry Potter and Co. does not belong to me, rather to JKR and anyone else who has stuck their hand into this cauldron.

Characters: Draco Malfoy

Summary-A/N: This series - well, I don't know if you'd call it a 'series' per se, more like group of random one-shots that may or may not have references to each other, but are otherwise not related - is in response to TheOriginalHufflepuff's Twelve Fics of Christmas challenge.

* * *

Photograph:

The frame remained on the mantel place, a prime candidate for dust, if he'd ever given it the chance to settle. It was placed so that wherever he was in the room, he could always look at the happy blonde couple as they shared their first Christmas together.

Draco sighed and turned from the picture, tinsel dangling from his fingers that had yet to be placed on the tree. It was almost a holiday tradition: go about, decorating his flat; brood about the happiness his parents had before he'd been born; miss them with every fiber of this being. Okay, so the last wasn't a holiday tradition, more an everyday occurrence.

When he'd placed the last of the tinsel on the tree, he stood back to examine his handiwork. Ornaments of all shapes and sizes weighed down the thin branches of the fir, sparkling and glimmering in the dim light. The silver tinsel gave the pleasant illusion of icicles that Draco loved so much. And atop the tree perched an angel, her flowing, blonde hair loose over her shoulders and her bright blue eyes downcast, looking right at him. He felt a tear roll down a pale cheek as he stared up at her, seeing not the angel but his mother, wishing he could look upon her delicate features again and have her tell him it was all going to be alright.

Just then, the doorbell rang.

Wiping the back of his hand across his eyes, he answered the door. Standing in his doorway was a speccy man with an impish grin, holding out a present wrapped in red and adorned with a gold bow. Inside, Draco came to find, was a dark picture frame, displaying two men waltzing in the middle of the street as a heavy snow fell over them. He set it next to the photo of the happy blonde couple, who waved at the new arrivals.

Just because Draco couldn't have what his parents had didn't mean he couldn't have happy memories and timeless photos nonetheless.


	9. Quaffle

Title: Quaffle

Author: Arawna

Disclaimer: Anything pertaining to Harry Potter and Co. does not belong to me, rather to JKR and anyone else who has stuck their hand into this cauldron.

Characters: Blaise Zabini, Ginny Weasley, Ronald Weasley, Hermione Granger

Summary-A/N: This series - well, I don't know if you'd call it a 'series' per se, more like group of random one-shots that may or may not have references to each other, but are otherwise not related - is in response to TheOriginalHufflepuff's Twelve Fics of Christmas challenge.

* * *

Quaffle:

"I'm sorry," Ginny apologized, handing the gift to the child sitting before her. "I couldn't find one. They were all out everywhere I went."

The child pouted up at his mother.

"Oh, that's okay," the baritone of his father commented as the man scooped his son from the floor. "I'm sure we can find one for you for your birthday."

"But you promised," the boy whinged.

"Now, Fred, you can't whine," Ginny chided. "We already said we'd looked everywhere."

"But-" The boy was cut off by the ring of a doorbell.

"That must be Hermione and Ron," Blaise said, setting the lad in Ginny's lap. She still held the present in her hand.

"And there's my favorite nephew," Ron claimed as he strolled into the room.

"I'm your _only _nephew," Fred giggled.

Ron's brow furrowed as if in concentration. "It appears that you are right, my boy. The rest of us decided to have _girls_!"

He swept the boy from his mother's lap and little Fred giggled.

"Auntie Ginny," a small girl cried, rushing for the now unoccupied lap.

"And there's _my_ favorite niece," Ginny said, pulling the girl onto her lap.

The girl pulled her aunt in close and whispered, "Daddy brought something special for Cousin Freddy."

"Did he now?" Ginny asked, looking up at Ron, who still had Fred in his arms. "And what might that be?"

Hermione, who had been on the heels of her daughter, handed a box to Blaise. "This. Ron said that we couldn't come if he couldn't get it."

Freddy squirmed in Ron's arms. "I wanna see it. Can I open it? Huh? Can I?"

Ron set Freddy on the floor so he could run over to his father and rip the wrapping paper from the box.

"Daddy, open it," Freddy whined, pointing at the taped box.

Blaise flicked his wand at the box. "What I do for those I love."

Freddy reached into the box and pulled out a red ball, black scrawled writing all over the surfaces. His face lit up.

"Thank you, Uncle Ron!" he exclaimed.

"Now, that's not just _any _Quaffle," Ron explained. "It's from the last match, and I got the rest of the team to sign it. Just for you."

"Are you on here?" Freddy inquired.

"Yeah," Ron answered. He pointed at the largest and least recognizable signature. "That's me."

The boy went about rolling the ball around the living room. Blaise followed his son, playing with him.

Ginny caught her brother's eye, giving him a thankful look.


	10. Phoenix

Title: Phoenix

Author: Arawna

Disclaimer: Anything pertaining to Harry Potter and Co. does not belong to me, rather to JKR and anyone else who has stuck their hand into this cauldron.

Characters: Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy

Summary-A/N: This series - well, I don't know if you'd call it a 'series' per se, more like group of random one-shots that may or may not have references to each other, but are otherwise not related - is in response to TheOriginalHufflepuff's Twelve Fics of Christmas challenge.

* * *

Phoenix:

"There's no fucking way you're going to get away with this," Harry told Draco for the millionth time as they walked down a street in Muggle London. "Your mother's going to throw a fit."

"What she don't know won't hurt her," Draco said over his shoulder and he scanned the signs of the various buildings.

"But, Draco," Harry whined, following him despite the fact that he'd rather not have any part of what the blonde was planning. "You_know_ she's gonna find out. She always does."

Draco shrugged. "So. If she does, I'll tell her it was your Christmas present to me."

Harry groaned. "So, _when_ she finds out, she's gonna kill _me_instead of _you_? I don't see how that's even fair."

"We're a family of Slytherins," the blonde said, spotting the shop he wanted. "'Fair' isn't in our vocabulary."

"But it's in _mine_," Harry protested, following Draco across the street.

"Ah, but you can only blame yourself in this situation," Draco replied, opening the door. "_You _married into the family._You _had a choice whether or not to be part of such a family; _I_didn't. Now stop complaining and come on."

"But, Draco," Harry whined again. "A _tattoo_?"

"Yeah," Draco answered as they neared the counter.

"What're even getting?" Harry asked, finally giving up. Some what.

Draco gave him a sidelong look and a smirk. "A phoenix."

Harry sighed. "Happy Christmas to me. Just what I always wanted, in-laws that hated me. Oh joy."


	11. Kiss

Title: Kiss

Author: Arawna

Disclaimer: Anything pertaining to Harry Potter and Co. does not belong to me, rather to JKR and anyone else who has stuck their hand into this cauldron.

Characters: Narcissa Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy

Summary-A/N: This series - well, I don't know if you'd call it a 'series' per se, more like group of random one-shots that may or may not have references to each other, but are otherwise not related - is in response to TheOriginalHufflepuff's Twelve Fics of Christmas challenge.

* * *

Kiss:

"How long has it been?" Lucius asked from his position atop his strong, dark mount. He glanced at his wife, who was riding beside him on a slightly smaller, white mare. "How long has it been since we have been out riding? Two - three years?"

Narcissa smoothed the heavy velvet of her riding dress with a gloved hand. "It's been almost four years, love."

"Ah," Lucius replied, his gaze shifting to look down the trail. He heard Narcissa mumble something, but her voice was too soft for him to hear what was said. "What was that?"

"I miss it." Her breath ghosted from her pale lips in a plume. She smiled softly. "Remember when, right after Draco was born, we would ride out and have picnics down by the river, or in a random meadow? I miss that too."

"I remember," Lucius confirmed. "I also remember Draco getting a rash from a plant."

Narcissa smiled again as her hands gripped at the reins. She didn't look at her husband. "I also remember, before Draco was born, we would go out riding just before Christmas, looking for mistletoe."

"Yes, we would," Lucius said, keeping his eyes on the trail before them.

They rode in silence for a short distance.

"You know, it's the right time to look for mistletoe." Despite that Narcissa's voice was soft, Lucius heard her. "Maybe we could find some and take it back to the Manor. Like it used to be."

"The house elves have already brought in some mistletoe." Lucius drew the cold, winter air into his lungs and let it out with a heavy sigh. It created a large cloud before him. "But if you would like to so much, I guess it wouldn't hurt, since we're already out here."

"I would like that," Narcissa answered. She glanced around the forest surrounding her and her husband. She didn't see any in the immediate area.

"Ah, there's some," Lucius said. Narcissa turned to see him pointing at a branch hanging across the trail. Clinging to the branch was a vine of mistletoe.

Narcissa reined her mare to a stand beside her husband's mount. The couple stared up at the plant.

Her husband calling her name roused Narcissa from her inner thoughts. When she turned to see what he had said her name for, Lucius leaned across the gap between their horses and kissed her.

It wasn't a deep kiss, or a passionate one. It was a light brush of lips, barely felt. But it was the first kiss that Narcissa had received from her husband in a long time. In fact, the last time he kissed her was at a political function and the media had asked for a picture of the couple kissing. For the first time in a very long time, she was happy.

When Lucius pulled away to situate himself on his mount again, Narcissa had to turn away to hide her blush.


	12. All Is Well'

Title: 'All Is Well'

Author: Arawna

Disclaimer: Anything pertaining to Harry Potter and Co. does not belong to me, rather to JKR and anyone else who has stuck their hand into this cauldron.

Characters: Narcissa Malfoy, Lucius Malfoy, Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Ronald Weasley, Molly Weasley, Arthur Weasley, Ginny Weasley, Blaise Zabini

Summary-A/N: This series - well, I don't know if you'd call it a 'series' per se, more like group of random one-shots that may or may not have references to each other, but are otherwise not related - is in response to TheOriginalHufflepuff's Twelve Fics of Christmas challenge.

* * *

'All Is Well':

"Oh, Molly, it's been too long," Narcissa greeted as half of the redheaded family walked into their parlor, Hermione and Blaise in tow. Harry left his seat next to Draco to hug his two best friends, who readily threw their arms around him to return his hug.

"Harry," Draco drawled as he came to stand next to the ex-Gryffindor. He shook Ron's hand and kissed Hermione's. He repeated the greeting when Ginny and Blaise joined the group. "Someone might think that you were still in school the way you act around them."

"Just be happy I don't act this way when we're alone," Harry grinned. Ron grimaced at the thought of his best friend alone with the Malfoy heir.

"Don't worry, _love_," Draco smirked. "If you were to act in such a way, I'd throw you out on your arse."

The group laughed. Harry swatted Draco on the arm.

"Love you, too, _dear_," Harry shot back.

"Tsk, tsk, Draco," Narcissa said as she walked up behind the 'feuding' couple and placed a hand on either of their shoulders. "You never have been one to pick a winning fight, have you?"

Again, the group laughed as Draco made a face at his mother.

"Now, Draco," Narcissa cooed. "Be so kind as to show our guests to the dining hall."

"Mother." Draco rolled his eyes. "They've been here enough times to know their own way."

"No matter," Narcissa shrugged - something she doesn't do often. "You can _escort _our guests one their way to the dining hall, then."

Draco sighed. "Right this way, people."

He held out an arm, gesturing toward the arching doorway that lead toward the large dining hall.

'This' generation situated themselves at one end of the absurdly long table while 'that' generation sat at the other, each cluster of people talking about different subjects.

"…but that's not what the Minister proposes…"

"…didn't you hear? He's being traded to the Cannons…"

"…Don't worry, they Ministry will have this figured out before it becomes a problem…"

"…On one's as fast as Harry!…"

"…His morals are so much more…civil than the other candidates…"

"…he could out chess you any day!…"

"…politics…blah blah blah…"

"…Quidditch blah blah blah…"

As the dishes were being cleared by a pair of elves, on said to the other, "Pinki knows this could be worse."


End file.
